His Perfect Lie, Her Vicious Truth

ity treatments to give my husband, Bronson, the heir he deserved. He w

he truth from behi

ur wedding. It was all an elaborate lie to protect Bridgett-his childhood lo

d I was just his compensation. Every gentle to

ut. He thought I' d always b

o ice. I smiled sweetly, played the part of the forgiving wife, and bega

pte

die

licate curve of a hopeful mother' s belly. This was it. The complex

her voice flat. "Your husband isn't listed as a dependent on your

we say, 'informal' filings. Would you like us to look into it? It

us. "No, thank you," I said, my voice firmer than I felt. "It mu

ed with the quiet ache of infertility, a cruel legacy from a colle

his family' s relentless pressure for an heir, always whisper

do anything for him, even endure this painful journey, hoping

glass tabletop. An unfamiliar number, but the urg

Clifton... he's furious. Bronson is being dealt with

arrant his father's wrath? I grabbed my keys, the

unspoken rules. Its grand, iron gates swung open with

sharp, echoing from the study. Clifton' s booming voice, then Ann

name hitting me like a physical

face. Her manipulative smiles. The girl who always seeme

sp. My legs felt like jelly, rooted to

' s voice was raw. "You know why. Her fa

felong leash! Her father's business acumen helped Clifton establish this empire

countered, the weariness clear in his tone. "It

ace! A manipulative, spoiled brat who nearly

gett did to her? That 'hazing incident' in college? It wasn't just hazing, Bron

everything else. My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. Bridgett

r. "I... I know. I handled it. I ma

uried it! You let that psychopath walk

nsation! Protection! You wanted a clean image, Father! So I marri

"You fool!" Clifton's voice was laced with disgust

d, lethal. "It was never even legally fil

e raw with grief. "He knew you could never have children, and he made sur

in that secluded cabin you bought, isn't she? Your little s

d, his voice broken. "She' s fra

my throat, raw and agonizing. The floor r

assuring word. The memories of that night, the

" Bridgett' s voice, smug and dripping with conte

earnest, "I' ll protect you, El

ty, his fierce sense of justice. He was my hero, the o

ght off the reporters, shielded

being," he' d announced to the press, his jaw s

my eyes, "and let me spend the rest of my li

itect of my gilded cage, the silent

I thought I was loved, cherished, even guilty

mance designed to compensate me for a trauma he

again, full of confident arrogance. "Elodie loves

pair was replaced by a burning, resolute fire. He thoug

from inside the study. Bridgett. I knew i

is face pale, his eyes wide with alarm. He did

king onto mine. The frantic alarm on his fac